Night of Creeping Death
by NancyBG-OldMaidWhovian
Summary: Children are vanishing from a secluded 18th Century glen in the highlands of Scotland, as the Doctor and Nyssa stumble upon a terrifying mystery.


CHAPTER ONE

The wet afternoon had been as raw as a gaping wound. Now, as the day closed down into darkness, thick ropes of fog settled around the skeletons of the leafless trees. In the small valley wedged between two highland mountains, the damp night air was as cold and dead as the fingers of a corpse. Maisie gripped Caitlin's hand tighter, as they hurried down the rutted track towards the safety of the castle.

Caitlin had run away again. She was Maisie's younger sister, and the ten year old girl had been sent to the laird's estate last week, to begin her life as a kitchen maid. Caitlin had escaped that fate. The fifteen year old had been promised to a young farmer, a fellow neighbour of their home at Dubharglen.

It had been a tough year for all of them, that year of 1750, what with the clearances and all. The new laird at Colmheach Castle, as soon as the previous laird had died, had begun a systematic removal of dozens of tenant families from his highland lands.

Now, through a bend in the track, Maisie could see the flicker of lights from the castle windows. Neither girl spoke. At first, Caitlin had hung back, whimpering and whinging incoherently about evil spirits haunting the castle cellars. But, as the night closed in, she became more and more quiet, huddling close to Maisie, as they made their way along the fairly level, hoof-churned muddy ground between the deep ruts left by carriage and cart wheels.

All of the sudden, as they rounded the last bend in the road, before they entered the castle grounds, the fog thickened. It was as if a solid wall of white had been abruptly thrown into their path. Both girls stopped dead in their tracks. The lights of the castle could no longer be seen. Caitlin whimpered louder.

"Hush now, Caitlin. It's only fog ya' daft girl!" Maisie admonished her, stopped in the middle of the track, trying to see her way through the fog. It was impossible. She couldn't even see the trees lining the track any longer. "Like as not, ye'll have more to be afraid of than fog, once cook gets her hands upon ye. This mist is surely slowing us down. She's not going to be well pleased with either of us, I suspect."

But, as they watched in horror, a snake-like tendril of fog detached itself from the solid mist in front of them. No longer white, the thin patch of fog, twisted and writhed, and grew darker. The two girls watched wide-eyed with terror as the wisp of fog slowly formed into the outline of a body. A body with long, claw like hands reaching out for the pair of them. As one, Maisie and Caitlin screamed.

The hillside that looked down on the castle in the glen, drowsed in the bright sunshine. Trees cast intermittent shadows over the floor of Dubharglen. The brown grasses and barren trees seemed to be soaking up the sunshine. Sunlight danced and sparkled cheerfully off the gently waving boughs of the few pines.

Nearby, birds twittered and flitted about in the branches of trees, and a beck burbled a merry song, as it's waters, released from the winter's snow and ice, raced their way towards the sea. In the distance, rising up behind Colmheach Castle, their lower slopes shadowed from the sun, the snow-spotted peaks of the highlands majestically reached towards crystal clear, azure blue skies.

This idyllic scene was suddenly shattered by the groaning of alien engines, as the TARDIS materialized among the dead heather and grasses of the hillside.

A fair-haired man emerged from the TARDIS, dressed, unusually, in an Edwardian cricketer's outfit. The Doctor looked around, smiled, and put his straw panama hat on his head. He patted a stalk of celery, freshly pinned to one lapel of his long cream coloured coat. A young woman stepped out the door beside him. Nyssa's dark hair shone in the sunlight, as she, like the Doctor, took in their surroundings. She was wearing a long, multi-colour skirt and a light blue blouse, her feet sensibly encased in a pair of short leather boots.

"So, where are we then?" Nyssa asked him. "Wherever it is, it's quite beautiful, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled down at her. Took a big sniff of the air, nodded.

"Scottish highlands in early spring. And yes Nyssa, they are lovely this time of year, aren't they?"

"I'm sure Tegan would enjoy this view, it's too bad she's missing it." Nyssa remarked.

"She'd probably complain about the mud and the wind." The Doctor muttered under his breath, a tad uncharitably.

"What was that, Doctor?" Nyssa asked him, still gazing at the distant mountains with pleasure.

"Nothing, I was just...agreeing with you." He lied, jamming his hands into his pockets.

"I miss her. But, she wanted to go back to Heathrow, and I suppose we could hardly imprison her in the TARDIS if she didn't want to stay." Nyssa said.

"No, I suppose not." The Doctor agreed, then, wanting to get off the subject of another lost companion, he started walking down the slope of the hill. "Come on, let's have a walk through the glen, perfect day for it, don't you agree, Nyssa?"

"I suppose it would be good to get out of the TARDIS and stretch our legs for a bit." She agreed, carefully following the Doctor down the steep, grassy slope.

The Doctor walked towards a track he could see below, which wound its way through the glen, and seemed to lead to a huge castle, nestled at the base of the highlands. He and Nyssa had been walking along the track, pleasantly conversing about antics of the residents of a small planet called "Comedia," near Nyssa's home world Traken.

The pair of them looked up, startled, as there came a pounding of hooves from behind them. Two men on horses rode up to them. One was a middle aged man; huge, hairy and bearded, who had a fierce expression on his face. The other was young, in his late teens or early twenties. He looked down at the Doctor and Nyssa with an arrogant sneer.

Both men wore kilts and feather-decorated dark green bonnets. The older, ginger-haired man wore a coarse white homespun shirt, and a long tan leather vest. He was wearing a utilitarian brown and burgundy plaid kilt, with plain tan woolen hose and sturdy leather shoes.

The young man was more elegantly dressed. His dark hair was tied back neatly in a queue. He wore a frilly white shirt with a cravat, a dark green vest trimmed with silver embroidery and silver buttons embelished with some sort of family crest. From the waist down, he was dressed in a green and black Blackwatch plaid kilt, with matching hose, and polished black shoes decorated with a silver buckle. Draped over his shoulders was a long cape, also in Blackwatch plaid. Like his older companion, he too, had a sword buckled on, but unlike the older man's heavy claymore, the young man's sword was more finely made, and sported a silver and gold hilt. Nevertheless, both weapons looked deadly.

All this the Doctor took in, in seconds, also noting, uncomfortably, that both men each were armed with a flintlock pistol, as well.

"What have we here?" The bearded man boomed out, yanking his sturdy bay gelding to a sliding halt, and flinging up mud towards the Doctor and Nyssa. "Strangers in our midst! Perhaps they can tell us something, my lord!" He said to the youth on the black stallion.

"Ah. Good morning!" The Doctor said, smiling and raising his hat in greeting, while at the same time, unobtrusively placing himself between Nyssa and these men. "As you guessed, we're new to these parts. I'm the Doctor."

"There's two girls gone missing last night, the laird himself has promised the families he'd look into it. They were last seen on this road, headed back to the castle. What do you two know about it?" Without preamble the big man spoke gruffly, as if he'd already tried the pair of them and found them guilty.

"I'm truly sorry to hear that." The Doctor said, trying to diffuse the mounting tension. "But, we've only just arrived here this morning. I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about. But, I'm sure we'd be more than happy to assist you with your search, if you like?"

The young man sitting quietly on his black stallion said nothing, only continued to stare at the Doctor and Nyssa. He glanced over at the older man and nodded. The older man drew his pistol, pointed it at the Doctor, and cocked it.


End file.
